Poems on the Games
by grad-phi
Summary: A couple of poems based on the Hunger Games (which I obviously don't own). Two slightly silly ones, one serious.
1. The Victory of Master Rodgers

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. **

**Also- read at your own peril, injuries sustained from reading this or any of the origional poems are not my fault.**

**This is a short parody in the form of a poem where a tribute uses a poem by one of the worst british poets ever to kill off his opponents. Written in the same style as said poets work, obviously. If you really want to enjoy it, I suggest that you get a friend (preferably a rather understanding one so when you want to kill them, they won't mind too much) to read you some of his origional works first. His name's William Topaz McGonagall.**

* * *

**The Victory of Master Rodgers:**

'Twas in the year of the twentieth games and on the eighteenth of May

That I was put into a state of dismay

By the arrival at my side

Of an enemy, rather snide.

\\

I faced my opponent knowingly,

Figuring that I could at least die my death heroically.

When a plan- one of great cunning and tom-foolery

Did appear within my mind with such suddenness that my previous nervousness now might seem illusionary.

\\

Might I be allowed to remove my jacket?

I asked permission but did not reckon that it

Would be granted by this man who intended

To leave me hanging dead from a tree, suspended.

\\

Instead, I asked again

May I say some last words before you attempt to sever my brachiocephalic vein?

The answer was now forth-coming

My opponent replied that I may do so, if it should please me- so long as it was not unbecoming.

\\

Thus, I reached within my coat

To find within the necessary quote

That I would read to perhaps save my very life

With an effectiveness far better than any ordinary knife.

\\

The piece that I had decided to read may have been described than less than canonical

But was a short verse by the poet who went by the name of Mc'Gone-a-gale.

This verse I did shout so that anyone whom did hear

Would not to them, me endear.

\\

My opponent did thus proclaim, if thou can invent any torture but this, that- I shall happily endure

Rather than to listen to one more

Stanza of this terrible verse

Indeed, you have broken me with these woeful words spoken with an average vocal frequency of two-hundred hertz.

\\

And so it did follow as these events I record

For, before I could continue a terse voice did inform me that due to my recital, I was much deplored

Stop! Stop- it cried- you have killed the remaining tributes by the sound of your voice alone

And terrified each and every citizen of the Capitol until they were white as a bone.

\\

Thus did end my time in the dreaded arena in which many a tribute had fought against their impending death

So I consider now that is worse for them that they did not bring a book of poetry- else they might not have taken their final breath.

But for me at least, my stay was short

And I too became a Victor, of a sort.

\\

**/I hope you survived! Please reveiw!**


	2. Darkness

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games**

**_Darkness_**

Darkness.

Just darkness.

There is no light left in this world-

It ended when we fell.

It fled this place leaving only despair.

The clouds poisoned, the forests burning.

Yet none heeded the warnings,

They tarried 'till it was too late

Until nothing good remained.

Only hatred, war and misery.

/

What is left then, but to wait?

To listen for the final traveller,

The last visitor that we may meet

Before we leave this lonely land.

He will come cloaked in shadow,

Draped in black and hiding in the mists of our fear.

The curved edge of his cruel blade shining bright,

He will come offering peace for eternity.

'One long sleep' he will say.

'Rest for evermore, be silent.'

/

If he is kind, alone he will be

But more often than not, he will be but a shadow,

A shadow of some unpleasant fate,

The silent stalker of the true cause of misery-

The looming of Famine,

Tall and bony, laughing at the sad slivers of humanity who pass his way;

Cruel, unpredictable War,

Claiming not to favour, to choose equally from all but all the while reaping unfairly;

Or the lurking of Pestilence,

Sneaking into the homes of those who presume themselves safe.

/

These three will judge all

And take those they choose.

And only once they have played their merry game

Will what remains be given solitude,

Leaving behind all they loved,

Leaving behind all they cared for.

All that they aspired for, all that they sought,

All that they hated, that they envied.

All that they were.

Cruel rest yet rest none the less.

/

The end will come, none may escape.

No-one may leave the beaten path

That leads us down the twisting trail

Marking the way from birth to death.

No matter who you may be,

A beginning and an end are given to all.

Shape your life as you wish

Serve who you will, do what you think is best;

It changes nothing, that single fate remains.

For in one thing at least, everyone is equal.

/

_And as I look now_

_Into the grim murkiness that hides the world_

_I find my own avenger_

_Come to claim my soul._

_He is not War_

_Or Famine_

_Or Pestilence._

_At least not by themselves._

_He was not born from the depths of my animalistic soul._

_He is human._

_/_

_He stalks the void between worlds_

_Laughing at the lives he ends,_

_The brief sparks of light that he snuffs out._

_He cares not for their cries of mercy;_

_The sobbing of a child does nothing to prevent his wrath._

_The horrors of nature are nothing in comparison to him;_

_The three avengers of old can only follow in his wake_

_Cowering in his shadow._

_He is the product of this world._

_And he is human._

_/_

_How can I wait for him, knowing what will come?_

_How can I not pretend that I may survive?_

_Tell myself that he may spare me._

_Even as I see the telling fine, dark mists cloud his shape._

_Even as I feel the coldness creep into my flesh._

_/_

_To him I was nothing_

_But maybe that is better._

_For as he is mine, I am his_

_And I can wait as long as I must_

_Eternity is just a word now._

_/_

_And I embrace the darkness._


	3. Run Little Spyder

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games!**

**Very short summary of the triology as a poem. Enjoy! (And please review)  
**

**Run, Little Spyder**

Run away, little spyder-

You wouldn't like it here.

The Districts are starving

But the Capitol doesn't care.

\\

Run away, little spyder-

Run away and hide.

The Hunger Games are coming;

If picked, it's unlikely you'll survive.

\\

Run away, little spyder-

Watch only from afar.

The President isn't happy.

For two tributes won this year.

\\

Run away, little spyder-

Be careful where you go.

There are strikes in Three and Four

And uprisings in Eight.

\\

Run away, little spyder-

Climb high towards the sky.

The Victors the Capitol cared so much about

Are returning to the arena they hate.

\\

Run away, little spyder-

Spin your web in some other place.

The rebellion is beginning

While Twelve burns in punishment.

\\

Run away, little spyder-

Flee the oncoming storm.

There are battles to be fought

And the people we care about won't survive unscathed.

\\

Come back, little spyder-

All is forgiven.

The Hunger Games are over.

The Revolution has won.

\\

**/Also- bit of self propmotion here! I started my first ever fan-fac (also Hunger Game) so it would be great if you could R&R! Its rated a M to be on the safe side as it could get slightly violent/ philosophical about why kids kill in the games later on, no relationships or anything though. It's called "Why I rebel". The prologue and 1st chapter are up, they're generally pretty short as I hate adding anything which doesn't advance the plot\character-development in some way.**

**Thanks.**


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